StormWatcher by Mieke Boynton

My name is Stormwatcher. I do exactly what you predict me to do. I wait under cover, peer out into the open, and watch the coming of the clouds.

I watch the skies become bruised and blackened, I see the brewing of the miasma and the rains. I watch the armies cross the heavens and blot out the sun with their blue arrows and golden javelins, I hear the rumbling of their spears clashing bravely against their shields. I hear the screams of humans and animals swept up by the hurricanes and twisters of those twisted minds that create such havoc, and I race after them like a cameraman chases a tornado, documenting their existance until their very last breath.

I take my footage to the Creator, and he witnesses their first, their middling, and their final moments. He passes judgement, and they pass on to Elsewhere. It’s a task I’ve become accustomed to after eons of practice, and these deaths do not sadden me much anymore. It is like when a human steps accidenlty upon an anthill. Oops– and then forgotten. I am no guardian. I am a witness. But this I don’t have the heart to confess to humanity.

I shake the sweat, blood, and tears off my wings. And the chase begins again.

~Angreek87